Dandelions
by Pittsy
Summary: This is a story following Lily and James on the journey from intense dislike to fierce love. They fight, passionately and publicly, until on one strange day they decide to do something stupid, completely uncharacteristic, and extremely unpredictable.
1. Evans and Potter

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter, JK Rowling does. Big surprise I'm sure.

**A/N:** I just wanted it known that I am a Strong Person. During the writing of this story I typed the word 'seriously' and refrained from joyously indulging in my favourite and yet slightly tedious every-Marauder-fanfic-has-at-least-one "'I'm serious'-'no, I'm Sirius!'" joke!

Oh, and I'm pretty sure this is slightly AU. Not in a James-is-actually-Snape's-half-brother-and-Slughorn's-secret-lover-and-Lily-is-actually-a-half-dementor-gymnast-slytherin. No, this is only AU because it doesn't really fit into the normal timeline (its only out by a few months though) but not in a completely major way and you'd probably only notice if you thought about it hard. And the characters are all still near enough canon (I hope), or at the very least fanon.

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**Dandelions**

**Chapter 1: Evans and Potter**

"Fight! Fight! Fight!"

The kids skidded down the corridor, pushing and shoving each other, falling over in their haste not to miss a single second of the event of the century.

"Who is it this time? Diggory and Jones again?" panted a wiry third year to the fourth year currently pushing him out of the way.

"Get out of my way! It's Evans and Potter!" the elder boy yelled excitedly.

"Evans and Potter?" The smaller boy whooped then gave his opponent an extra shove and raced out of sight round the corner where the rapidly growing crowd were cheering and jeering.

The Entrance Hall was fit to burst; there were children of all years running backwards and forwards, pushing each other roughly to get the best view. It was reminiscent of a Gladiatorial spectacle with the savage crowd of schoolchildren yelling, screaming, and thirsting for blood. The spectators at the front would later smugly tell their friends that they had had front row seats; they had heard every single insult, had seen the beads of sweat on their faces, and had experienced the hatred, the sheer _electricity_ of a legendary argument crackle through the atmosphere towards them like an indescribable wave of energy.

A large ring had been formed around two aggressive figures who were predatorily circling each other and sneering, unconsciously building up the tension for the onslaught of classic insults that would soon be viciously slung through the air. The dark head of James 'the demon' Potter nodded along in time to the war chant ringing throughout the hall, a dangerous grin adorning his usually handsome face as he circled his prey. Any observer not familiar with the 'prey' would think that it was hardly a fair fight; Potter was strong, sharp-witted…a hunter through and through. She was smaller than him and prettier, with her long mane of red hair and bright smile…at first glance, she was a girl who needed to be protected from someone like Potter, not thrown into a ring with him. However, the eagerly awaiting student body knew what to expect from their Head Boy and Head Girl. Lily 'sabre tooth' Evans may have been slight but she was the sharpest witch of her age, with a tongue to match, and (though he would never admit it) Potter knew from personal experience that she could also throw a punch and make it hurt.

"What're you waiting for, Evans? Scared?" he sneered from across the ring.

"Oh, please, Potter. Is that the best you can come up with? Taunting me about being _scared_ of you? I'm not eleven and I'm not scared of someone who could be outwitted by a garden tool," she retorted derisively, hands on hips.

"Ooh, it's starting!" a tiny first year whispered excitedly to her neighbour. Silence had fallen the second Potter had opened his mouth, no one wanting to miss even a syllable.

"Oh, I see you've set aside this special time to humiliate yourself-" Potter began with a smirk.

"Save your breath for your inflatable girlfriend, Potter."

The crowd tittered nervously, wondering how he'd take the obvious knifing of his ego. The combatants began to circle each other once more, like two panthers waiting for a chance to strike.

Potter was the first to speak, stepping forward quickly, into the middle of the ring, directly challenging her. "You know, Evans, I've been wondering lately…well, some people say you're two-faced-" He smiled charmingly and crossed his arms as Evans prowled around him. "But I disagree. I mean, if you had two faces, why would you wear that one?"

There was a roar of approval from the crowd. "Go Potter!! Kick her arse from here to Basingstoke!" bellowed a deceptively innocent looking first year.

Lily glared at the child and growled. "Now I know why some animals eat their young."

"No comeback? My, my, we are slipping."

"Shove it, Potter," she said, stepping up to meet him in the centre of the ring, toe to toe. Annoyingly, she had to bend her neck to look him in the eyes, but she straightened her shoulders and glared right at him. "You know as well as I do that I'm much prettier than you. I mean, everyone has the right to be ugly, but you're just abusing the privilege."

The crowd "ooh-ed", to Lily's great satisfaction.

He shot her a quick grin and leant down slightly. "Am I now? Well, at least I've got my brain. Actually, an interesting thought just crossed my mind-" He sent her a serious look. "Does your head whistle in a cross wind?"

The crowd "ahh-ed", to James's great satisfaction.

"A thought crossed your mind? It must've been a long, lonely journey…" she said with a grin.

Potter growled, stepped back and gripped his wand, which didn't go unnoticed by her. "Ooh, you're such a- a-"

"A what?" She smirked at him. "A wonderful and caring person? A perfect example of womanhood? A-"

"A pain in the arse," James said dryly, sending the audience into howls of laughter once again.

"You know, you have very striking features," Lily said, thoughtfully. "How often, exactly, have you been struck?"

"Oh, really, Evans, how clever, resorting to meaningless insults. I'm ashamed of you," James said, stalling for time. He thought furiously, desperately trying to come up with a perfect put down.

She grinned at him. She'd sparred with him enough to know when he'd run out of witty comebacks. She'd won. That hadn't actually been so hard. In fact, she didn't feel as though she'd reached her full potential today. She was sure she had lots of wittier insults stocked up somewhere inside her. "You're not giving up, are you? I haven't even warmed up -"

"Bogey-eating, vomit-smelling, spawn of the Devil!" he blurted out desperately to the delight of the crowd surrounding them.

She grinned. "Dementor-licking, snot-kissing, puke-loving, sprout-eating necrophiliac!"

The audience groaned in disgust, a chorus of "Yuck!"s echoing around the Entrance Hall.

"Messy-looking, fart-smelling, Snape-kissing, lover of all things evil and grotty in this world!" he shouted triumphantly.

"_Messy-looking?" _she shouted, raising her wand. "I am _not _messy looking! _Mohicio!"_

Potter jumped out of the way and the spellflew straight across the ring, hitting one of the little students who were jumping up and down cheering. The boy screamed frantically as a plume of red smoke swirled in a spiral around his head, resisting his neighbour's efforts to waft it away. When the smoke was gone the crowd pointed and shrieked with laughter. Instead of the normal, sedate hairstyle of a twelve-year-old, the distraught boy was now sporting a bright red Mohican, sprouting up from the middle of his scalp, making it look as though a phoenix had decided to take up residence on his bald head.

"Missed me!" Potter sang, while Evans apologetically tried to change back the spell on the traumatised little boy. "_Muddeum Baello!"_

She ducked at the last minute and the mud ball flew straight into the face of a grumpy looking seventh year, who had arms the size of Evans's waist, and a neck thicker than Potter's stupid head. Evans crept backwards slowly towards the middle of the ring as the mud-covered boy menacingly took out his wand and she whispered through gritted teeth, "Potter, look what you've done now."

"What?" he exclaimed loudly. "It wasn't me! _You _were the one who ducked!"

Evans rolled her eyes and took up the dueling position, right beside Potter, their wand arms outstretched as the evil-looking seventh year entered the ring.

"THREESOME!" screeched a boy excitedly from somewhere towards Lily's left, making her whirl around and glare at him.

"Ex_cuse_ me?"

"Evans, concentrate!" Potter yelled as he ducked a vicious-looking spell that whizzed over his head.

She span back around and shot a spiral of impressive purple flames at her foe, which he deflected with a wave of his wand and hit a fourth year girl who was gasping on the sidelines, turning her into a flamingo.

Potter stared at it, mouth agape then twisted to stare at her. "I thought you weren't any good at Transfiguration?"

She shrugged sheepishly. "I'm not. I was trying to turn him into a tea cosy."

"Merlin! And I thought _Peter _was ba- arrgh!" he yelped as he was hit by a flash of blue magic that instantly covered his body in a sheet of ice and sent him shivering so badly that he couldn't stand up anymore. With a lightening fast round of spells Evans defrosted him and proceeded to knock out their opponent, effectively ending the battle.

"He was mine, Evans! What do you think you're doing?" He jumped to his feet and rounded on her.

"Saving your arse! What do you think _he_ would've done to you if I'd left you like that? You'd be sporting tentacles about now and be on your way to the Hospital Wing!" Their momentary truce was as forgotten as the large lump of Avery that was sprawled across the centre of the ring and they both stepped over the prone form, standing toe-to-toe aggressively once more. "But then again, maybe I made a mistake. Maybe a few tentacles here and there would actually improve that abomination that you call your face!"

"Well, it makes sense that you'd project your own insecurities onto me. I've always said there's nothing wrong with you that couldn't be solved by a bat bogey hex and a polo mallet, but do you know what would make you look really good? DISTANCE!" he yelled.

With a war cry Evans brandished her wand again and was about to shoot a spell at her nemesis when a sharp voice interrupted her.

"Miss Evans."

Lily's eyes widened in horror and she froze, blinking into James's equally horrified face, suddenly understanding why the crowd's raucous caterwauling had fallen into silence.

"I would greatly appreciate it if you would kindly refrain from cursing Mr. Potter at this moment in time. Both of you come with me, please," Professor Dumbledore calmly said, then turned and strode off down the corridor.

The Head Boy and Head Girl gulped in unison.

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**A/N:** I started writing this story about 2 years ago. Six months ago I stopped writing fan fiction in favour of original stories, but recently I found this story and realized that I'd already written 13 chapters and it would've been a shame if no one ever got to read it. I actually think its one of my best fan fics. So I've decided to finish it and post it.

I admit that most of those insults I didn't actually come up with…I bought a pack of 'insult cards' years ago and they came into good use with the writing of this chapter. So if you recognize some insults, that's where they came from. I've just counted and 10 insults came from those cards. A well spent fiver, eh?

Do you want a little preview of the next chapter? Because I've finished the story before I've posted I can give little hints of what is to come.

RANDOM CLUES (which will probably make no sense):

-A secret liaison (not really because other people are there and it was arranged and its not at all secret but I figure it sounds intriguing and might make you read on)

-The RULES

-A by-Godric-that's-sexy moment

-'P's that won't stay clean

-Engelbert Whitney-Chessington III (I'm not kidding)

If you enjoyed it or even if you didn't, drop me a line and review! I've got an evil plant (called Frank) that eats non-reviewers. This isn't a threat, just a fair warning. Frank can get vicious.


	2. Head Girl and Head Boy

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, JK Rowling does. Big surprise I'm sure.

**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews!

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**Dandelions**

**Chapter 2: Head Girl and Head Boy**

He tapped his foot to an inner beat that he was quite sure was the Peruvian national anthem. He scratched the back of his head with his quill. Slouched in his seat a bit more. He discovered an old scribble on a corner of the parchment in his pocket and added a few snitches and a 'PADFOOT LURVES SNAPE' before carefully screwing it back up and repositioning it in his pocket. He was just contemplating scratching his head again when he noticed, quite by accident, that there seemed to be a book flying towards him. He pushed his chair back and watched as it whizzed straight passed him and hit the wall with such force that he was positive that it would've decapitated him. He continued to stare at the offending object in puzzlement until he glanced in the direction it had originated and saw a steaming mass of Head Girl and a dozen other bemused-looking people he supposed must be prefects.

"Can I help?" he offered politely.

"Once again," she began, ignoring him and addressing the younger students watching her. "The Head Boy will now talk to you about the regulations for punishing other students since he is, dare I say, an _expert_ in the field." She sent him a glare and abruptly sat down in her seat.

He slowly got to his feet, leisurely turned his quill over his fingers and scratched his head for good measure.

"These are the rules," he droned out. He knew them so well he could've recited them in his sleep."No hexing, no cursing, no Muggle torture weapons, no biting, no shouting, no impersonating a member of the clergy (unless approved by myself), no flying indoors, no misuse of mops, no entering or usage of bathrooms belonging to the opposite sex, no hitting, no spitting, no sneezing unnecessarily, no turning Filch into a parrot, no dueling, no indoor swamps, no indoor swamp _parties _(unless I'm invited)- gah!" he yelped as he dodged another book-turned-missile. "I was _kidding, _Evans! That brings me onto the next point, actually, which is, and I _stress _it is extremely important: no throwing books, especially at the personage of the Head Boy! Where was I…ah, yes, an old favourite, no sword fighting, no fake beards, no stealing, no sticking your head where it doesn't belong, no sniggering, no love potions, no musical instruments, no romantic literature of any kind- including PlayWizard, unfortunately- no racketeering, no pushing little people into walls, no time travel, unless approved by a teacher and, finally, no misuse of alliteration."

Pretty much every other rule had been put in place as a consequence of one of the misadventures of the Marauders, from the time Sirius had got his head stuck in one of the toilets in the fifth floor girls bathroom (and had henceforth claimed that all female bathrooms were obviously jinxed to ward him off, which was very probably true) to the time they had decided to talk just using words that began with 'p' all day long in honour of James being awarded Head Boy.

"Now, if any of these rules are broken- personally, I'd recommend the Playwizard one- Oh, don't get your knickers in a twist, Evans! Anyway, if any one of these rules are broken it is up to you as the underlings in the chain of command to enforce the law. You may dish out House points and you may take them away at your discretion. But, I'm warning you, don't abuse the privilege. Trust me, she'll know; she's got a third eye."

"No, Potter, it's just called a brain," she drawled, folding her arms.

"If you want to give a detention, see a Professor or one of us." Potter leaned forward on his desk and looked around the room with a serious expression. "You have the power to confiscate. Use this gift wisely. And remember, always remember, the _PlayWizard."_

A bored- looking fifth year raised her hand and said "But you gave us that entire speech- including the part about the PlayWizard- in September!"

Evans crossed her legs and frowned at the group. "It needed repeating- well, most of it did- because its come to my attention that some of you seem to think that you have the power to set detentions. Well, I'm assuming that as I'd rather not think that you've just been using your authority to pick on other students."

There was an uncomfortable silence as the Head Girl raised an eyebrow and glared reprovingly around the room, making several people fidget awkwardly. "Can anyone explain to me why Cassius Caspian was found by Hagrid in a collapsed heap at the base of an oak tree at three am this morning, after he'd allegedly been told _by a prefect _to walk around said tree for twenty four hours because he bumped into an older and supposedly more mature student by accident?"

Potter frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, it's not fair to do that to the little people. I mean, can they help it that they're little? And remember, they do grow and when they do, they get mad. Anyway, that's not the point to having power- you don't need to _punish. _Just _confiscate-"_

"Yes, yes, Potter, we all know, _PlayWizard_," the Head Girl tutted. "I just wanted it made clear to everyone that abuse of power will not be tolerated. Caspian refused to say who it was who had told him to do such a thing, I suspect due to a fear of being threatened further. You all understand what's going on outside Hogwarts at the moment. Now is not the time to be cruel to innocent children. If I do discover the culprit they will be the one walking around a tree all night. I'll make sure that they have their prefects badge revoked and they will be reported to the Headmaster. Don't abuse your authority because I will know. Like Potter said, I've got a third eye."

After dismissing the prefects, who shuffled, disgruntled, out of the room, Evans calmly rose and began to pack up her notes. She ignored the fact that the Head Boy had decided to hang back, and was leaning casually against the door frame, watching her, no doubt biding his time before trying out some new and interesting method of torture.

"What was that for?" he eventually burst out, unable to maintain his cool manner any longer.

"Well, I'm sorry if you find it distasteful that I try to be a good Head Girl and keep the prefects in line but-"

"Not that!" he snapped. "The throwing of the books! They could've caused me bodily harm!"

She paused in packing her bag away and glanced at him scathingly. "Really? Oh, I didn't realize!"

He stepped away from the door frame and sniffed the air for a second. "I'm getting a strong whiff of sarcasm from a south-westerly direction."

Evans lifted the heavy book bag onto her shoulder and shut her eyes for a blissful moment. "One day, one beautiful day, I'll throw a book and it'll actually knock you out. Then again, I bet you even talk in your sleep. A coma's better. But there's always the possibility of you waking up. That's it- death is the only option."

She opened her eyes in surprise when she felt a warm hand on hers. She jolted when she saw how close he was stood, his hand on hers, his eyes laced with amusement and his lips curved. The last time she'd seen him this close up had been when they were twelve and she'd sneaked up to the boys' dorm and placed a lacewig fly up his left nostril. He'd been drooling and snoring, making it a less than pretty picture. Well, even she- and she did hate him, after all- could say that five years on he looked a damn sight more attractive.

This didn't normally happen. Potter didn't stand so close, he didn't stare at her like that for any prolonged amount of time, and he most certainly didn't hold her hand. Actually, she realized with a start, she had never touched him before, skin on skin- not a handshake, a high five or even a brushing of hands when exchanging volatile substances in potions. The feeling of his hand on hers was more disturbing than she ever could have imagined.

He tugged and she jerked away as it dawned on her that he'd actually been trying to take her bag from her. Potter wanted to carry her bag. It didn't make sense. She must be in an alternate universe. Or he'd had a personality transplant. Or he'd finally succumbed to insanity. Or _she _was the insane one and was in fact imagining the look he was giving her.

"That's not nice."

"Since when did you want me nice?" Usually when she said something like that it came out snappy, which was how she'd intended it. Unfortunately, due to a bizarre problem with her breathing apparatus, and what she could only assume was the crossing of several important synapses in her brain, it came out sounding… different. Well, not like her anyway. It appeared even to her horrified ears that she was attempting to sound seductive.

It seemed that Potter had picked up on this aberration too as his eyebrows shot up in surprise and his mouth dropped open. She decided she couldn't handle any further arguments or embarrassment and bolted before that stupid grin had chance to emerge.

Potter stared after the Head Girl as she all but ran out of the room and a bemused smile crept onto his face as it usually did when he was around her (though technically she would claim it was more 'smirk' than 'smile'). He stuck a hand into a pocket and scratched his head with the other. He didn't quite know what had happened or who had been to blame. It appeared that all he had to do to get her to descend into lunacy was be nice to her. She was a strange girl.

* * *

James scrubbed the stupid cup again with the ridiculously ineffective duster and gritted his teeth. He'd cleaned the damn trophies fifteen times so far- _fifteen- _and Filch _still _wasn't satisfied. Why would anyone _want _to see their face in a cup anyway?

He scowled at the next placard, the one that had his name on it and proclaimed him Head Boy. Bloody good that did him. All it meant was that Evans was actually authorised to shout at him and boss him around. He furiously rubbed at the shining silver plaque as a single fingerprint directly over the 'P' flat-out refused to budge. It was ironic that it was his one single tiny award out of the thousands stored in the room that was the one he couldn't seem to get clean. He wondered if the universe was trying to tell him something poetic.

The next placard amongst the dozens to follow was the Head Girl's. He considered it as he scrubbed. She was a good Head Girl, he supposed. She was scary enough to keep most of the prefects in line and clever enough to outwit those she hadn't scared. He still couldn't understand why he'd been made Head Boy. It was an advantage of course: it helped win arguments, which usually resulted in a triumphant yell of 'But I'm Head Boy so HA!' and it helped him get away with certain things ('Ah, Professor McGonagall, you intended to patrol this corridor tonight too? Everything seems to be in order, nothing suspicious at all...'). The only thing that he actually brought to being the Head Boy was that he was laid back. He was the calm to Evans's storm. He was the balm to her blister. He grudgingly supposed that they made a good team.

He wondered what she'd be doing after Hogwarts. Probably something to do with the Ministry; it was the largest place of work for witches and wizards in the country, after all. It just didn't interest him one bit. He wanted to do something worthwhile, something better than pushing pieces of paper around all day every day for the rest of his life. He knew some people didn't mind that so much, but he was most certainly not one of those people. And, now he thought about it, he didn't think Evans would be satisfied with something so mundane either. They weren't the best of friends, but he could still see that she didn't belong in an office being bored out of her mind all day. She had something that not everyone had; she had fire, she had passion. That was part of the reason why he loved fighting with her so much. It was never dull around Evans.

He was worried for her. He knew he shouldn't be; he knew she could stand up for herself. It was a well known fact that she was smarter than him, could put up a damn good fight and could cast a spell quicker and better than anyone in the entire school. Her being muggleborn only made him admire her more. But that was what scared him; when they left the safety of Hogwarts in just a few weeks she'd be completely exposed, completely vulnerable, with no Dumbledore to protect her. The number of black letters the school had received had doubled over the past few months and in just two short weeks Evans would be out there, alone, with no one to protect her from them.

He moved onto a large goblet that commemorated Engelbert Whitney-Chessington's rule as Head Boy from 1953-1954. He'd already cleaned it three times but he still found the name amusing. James wondered if Whitney-Chessington had been a good Head Boy. He probably wore it like a shield and wielded it like a sabre, strutting around the school like he owned the place and saying things like "I say, Chesney, totally spiffing weather at the moment! Leave it, Turner, I'm Head Boy!"

James chuckled to himself. "You get me every time, Engelbert."

As he wiped a hand over his face and began to buff the large 1590 Triwizard Tournament plaque, his thoughts turned to the extremely strange prefect meeting earlier that day. He still couldn't figure out what had happened. What had possessed him to be _nice _to her? That was what a guy did when he liked a girl, not when she hated him with the fire of a thousand suns. Needless to say, it had been weird. He didn't know what had caused him to suddenly decide that her bag was too heavy and he didn't have a clue why she hadn't cursed him right away. Even Peter would've been able to tell that when they'd touched hands there'd been a spark of…something. James wasn't like Sirius- he didn't find completely mundane things erotic or perverted in some way- but he knew when something was sexy.

He sat back on his haunches and clenched his fist. He could still feel her hand against his. There was no way he could deny it. It had been too vivid, even though he had no clue where it had come from. What he did know was that when he'd touched his fingers to hers and she'd looked up at him through her eyelashes, by Godric, it had been sexy.

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**A/N:** After the first chapter a few people remarked that they couldn't see how the romance was going to fit into Lily and James's fighting relationship, but hopefully with this chapter you can see little sparks of romance :D. The next couple of chapters really advance it, I think.

PREVIEW CLUES (to entice you to keep reading):

- the stealing of books

- deranged or stupid?

- the chapter title is "Love and Hate"...

Oh, and also: Review if you have any pity for my attention-starved being! *faints with melodrama*.


	3. Love and Hate

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter, JK Rowling does. Big surprise I'm sure.

**A/N: **This is possibly my favourite chapter. I hope you like it.

* * *

**Dandelions**

**Chapter 3: Love and Hate**

"You're reading my book."

She didn't know why she'd said it. If it had been anyone else she'd have been too polite to say anything.

"So?" He blinked at her.

"Give it back." She was absently aware of the fact that she was being rude but she couldn't help it. _He _wasreading her book. "Now."

"No." He returned to reading the book.

She slammed the six books piled up in her arms down onto the table. "Give it back."

He grinned, his eyes crinkling up pleasantly. It annoyed her beyond expression. "What's the magic word?"

"Crucio?"

"No, the other one. The lovely one I always want to hear. It begins with 'p' and ends in 'lease.'"

She gritted her teeth. "Please."

He glanced up, thinking about it. "No."

"Oh, for goodness sake, Potter! Why do you have to do this? Just give me my book back!"

"I'm sorry," he said condescendingly, looking at her over his glasses. "Perhaps you weren't aware- this is the library. You can't claim ownership over a library book. They belong to the student body as a whole, therefore I have as much right to read it as you do."

She stamped her foot. "But it's not a library book, its _mine!_"

"It doesn't matter. It's in the library. It's under the same rules as a library book." He leaned back, balanced his chair on two legs and put his feet up on the table. "Now, if you don't mind. I'd like to read my book."

"Stop being ridiculous. Please give me my book back."

"Why should I? You were very rude to me."

"And I've apologised," she said through gritted teeth. "Obviously you're not willing to be reasonable. I'm not going to waste my time arguing with you. Keep the book."

He just grinned at her. As calmly as she could under the circumstances, Lily turned and strode away down a long aisle of bookshelves, and seated herself at a table at the far end of the library.

She was enraged. She knew that he was sat over there right now reading her book with a smug grin on his annoying face. Just the thought of it made her want to scream. It was always the same. As soon as she saw that quirk of his lips her brain began to overheat and she exploded with a huge mess of bad language and inappropriate behaviour.

She was not that sort of girl. She was not a girl who routinely harangued and fought with people. She was not a girl who was prone to violence or anger. She hated that girl, the shrieking harpy she was when she was with him.

She had often promised herself she would be better. She would stay calm; she would be mature; she would not let him get to her; she would act like an adult instead of a bitter old harridan. However, trying the calm and civilised approach with James Potter was like trying to reason with a piranha. One look, one smug grin from him and the walls of her self-discipline came crashing down.

She hadn't always hated him with the fury of a thousand banshees. She didn't used to care one way or another about him, except for occasional mild disapprobation. However, the year they both turned 15, something changed, something that seemed to incite violence and a burning hatred in both of them. Lily didn't know what had happened. All she knew was that gradually they had gone from barely being on speaking turns to arguing approximately every five minutes.

Lily's logic told her that he wasn't as bad as he had once been. She knew that he no longer bullied younger students, and she knew that he felt bad for having once done so. She knew that he didn't go out of his way to cause trouble anymore. She knew that he worked harder in class. She knew that if she didn't hate him so much, she would probably admire him for his strong friendships and his likeable, easy manner. She was not ignorant of his good qualities.

But there was just something about him… something that called to her baser instincts. The curl of his lip, the quirk of his eyebrow…it made her shiver with fury. It set her on edge, it made her want to do something, anything, to wipe that feeling away, even if it meant resorting to bodily violence.

She shook her head. She was sick of the fighting. There were so many worthwhile things to fight for, so many things that she would _have _to fight for as soon as she left Hogwarts, and yet she was wasting her last precious days of peace in daily pointless battles with a boy whose grin annoyed her. She was irritated at herself for being so foolish. The best thing she could do was grit her teeth and endure his presence. They only had two weeks left at Hogwarts before they would be thrust into the big, bad world. She could survive two weeks.

* * *

"I don't get it."

Lily's head snapped up painfully from her position lying upon the sofa to stare at the disturber of her peaceful solitude. She sighed, wearily. "What do you want, Potter?"

"I just don't get it, Evans." He threw himself into the chair opposite and frowned seriously at her.

"Get what?"

"This." He waved the book he had fought so hard to keep in front of her face. "This is a weird book."

"Potter," she said, resignedly, "please, just leave me alone."

"No, I want you to explain it to me."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Potter." She pushed herself up onto her elbows and brushed her hair back in annoyance. "It's a book. A story. You don't need me to explain it to you. Read it and figure out what it means for yourself."

"That's the point!" he exclaimed, with a flourish. "I've read it and it makes absolutely no sense."

"Why?" She rubbed her eyes and wondered why she always ended up having lengthy debates with him about random topics. These debates usually descended into heated arguments, which then descended even further into some form of duelling match. She didn't think she had the energy tonight. "Go on, tell me; you know you're dying to. Why doesn't it make sense?"

"Well, this Lizzie chick. She's obviously slightly deranged. Either that, or stupid."

Lily spluttered. "What?"

"Well." He stretched his legs out onto the coffee table and folded his arms, thoughtfully. "Any fool can see that Lizzie likes Darcy from the beginning. She thinks he's cute, she thinks he might be a good dancer, she's patiently waiting for him to ask her to dance (since she knows she's the hottest girl in the room- barring Jane, of course). Okay, he says something stupid to his mate about her, but what bloke hasn't done that by accident?"

"Yeah, what bloke?" she echoed in amazement at his critical evaluation of one of the most loved novels in the English language.

"By this time Lizzie has already decided that since he's not falling over himself to worship at her feet, then he's got to be one of the most despicable men in England. So she hates him. For, like, the _whole novel, _until she conveniently 'falls in love'," he said, using his fingers as quotation marks and pulling a face, "-just when she first checks out his bloody great castle-"

"It's not a castle-"

"- And my point is why didn't she just say yes the first bloody time he asked her to marry him?"

"Because then there'd only be half a novel?" Lily said, feeling rather odd. She felt something strange bubbling up inside her. She continued to stare at him and his earnestly confused face, and before she realised what was happening she issued a loud, involuntary giggle.

He looked as startled as she was, which somehow made her laugh even harder. It was only when she glanced up to see him grinning brightly at her that she stopped laughing abruptly. She didn't like him smiling at her. That was far too dangerous.

She coughed and pushed herself up into a sitting position. "You're completely missing the point."

"And what's that?"

"She doesn't like him. She hates him." Lily stopped and considered. "Or at least she thinks she does. It's easier to deal with hatred than with all the complexities of love. You know, love and hate can be easy to confuse." Her eyes involuntarily drifted across to meet his and her breath caught. He wasn't smiling now. He was staring at her, right _into _her with an expression she'd never seen before. Like he was seeing her for the first time. She was abnormally aware of the blood pumping through her veins; the heat rushing through her body; and that whisper, that shiver, the one that usually incited her to violence, shooting across her senses. She didn't know why she was reacting this way, or why he was looking at her with such intensity, all trace of amusement erased from him.

A sort of unknown terror overtook her then and she laughed, slightly hysterically. "It's just a book." Her eyes darted away from his, nervously.

Potter sighed and leaned forward towards her. "Just a book?"

"Yes," she said firmly. "It's just a book. Real life isn't that simple."

He stood and stared down at her seriously. She'd never seen him like this before. The look in his dark eyes…it meant something. She didn't like it.

"Isn't it?" he asked softly. "I think it is that simple."

Without giving her a chance to retort, he strode out of the room. She gazed after him, her mouth open and her thoughts scattered.

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**A/N: **I hoped you enjoyed this chapter. The hardest bit about writing it was trying to think up a chapter title! Let me know what you thought. Thanks for reading.


	4. Light and Dark

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter, JK Rowling does. Big surprise I'm sure.

* * *

**Dandelions**

**Chapter 4: ****Light and Dark**

James walked down the corridor and melted into the darkness. Familiar objects descended into sinister shadows in the flickering lantern light. Spectral footsteps echoed all around him; his heart was rattling against his ribcage and his throat was closing up, before he realised that they were _his _sure and steady footsteps. He marched into the night like he was marching into battle.

He checked that the classrooms were empty as he passed them. Despite his fear, he had a job to do; it was his responsibility to make sure that there was no one prowling the halls after curfew.

He paused and peered down an empty hallway; he shuddered. It was strange- as a child he hadn't been afraid of the dark. At first, it was just an excuse, a reason for his mother to allow him to keep his bedroom light on at night, and a means to an end. He used to stay up until dawn reading his Quidditch magazines.

But now the darkness meant something different; it hissed at him that life was made of more than sports and pranks. Now he could feel it, that dense, suffocating cocoon, slowly pressing in around him, and he wondered how he'd never noticed it before. It gave him no escape from the doors in his mind, doors that should be locked forever but were forced open in the dense nothingness and now swung ajar. It was in the middle of the night, in the pitch black, that he had to face himself.

He could've, should've, lit his wand as he strode along the corridor, but he refused. He wouldn't let the darkness win; he had an illogical conviction that if he did, he would lose part of himself, the part that squared its shoulders in defiance.

He was strong, he was fearless; he was a wall of goodness, courage, and light. But behind that wall, he hid away his shadows, and prayed that no one ever discovered the worries that plagued him.

Sometimes in the dark he wondered about the future, about whether it would be easy when the time came, whether he would teeter on that brink. He worried about facing the hidden parts of himself and succumbing to everything that he hated. He knew that evil and death lurked in the hearts of everyone, that the slightest thing could trigger betrayal. Every night he prayed to a god he didn't believe in that he would never be that weak.

James frowned and shook his head, pushing through the darkness, as he always did. He ignored the nagging doubt and willed himself forward, towards the promise of light and Gryffindor Tower.

That was until he saw the flash...

But then the night was silent and still. Patches of shadow swamped the corridor, leaving no trace of the brightness that had momentarily blinded him. He almost thought he'd imagined it.

Another flash.

All bleak thoughts dissipated as his heart started thumping and adrenaline pounded through his veins. It was two o'clock in the morning. Everyone was in bed. He had already done his rounds patrolling, and, for a change, he had found no one out of bed and roaming the corridors or making mischief. He remembered all too well when he and his friends had been the ones causing havoc throughout the night, but since he had been made Head Boy the Marauders' antics had had to stop somewhat, and since the war had intensified there had been no one wandering around unsupervised. It was too dangerous. Nowadays it seemed the only people sneaking out after dark were those who were looking for trouble darker and more dangerous than usual.

He cautiously approached the door the light had come from. It was McGonagall's classroom. He sincerely hoped he wasn't about to burst in on the old crone doing something untoward.

He was just about to dramatically push open the door and confront the rule breaker when he realised that he was being completely stupid. He was not only a wizard, but a Marauder, for Merlin's sake! He pulled out the Marauder's Map, whispered a few words and found what he was looking for.

It was Evans.

He wondered if hell had frozen over.

He didn't have a clue why she'd be up at this time. She was the least likely person in the entire school to be up after curfew. She abided by the rules, especially ones that were put there for her own protection.

James stepped up to door, peered through its window pane, and stopped breathing.

She was _fighting. _His eyes widened as he watched her battle against an imagined foe, throwing spell after spell at the empty classroom. She was a whirling vortex of energy; her wand swirled in fearsome flames of light, her hair whipped around her like a hurricane, and a thousand shades of emotion played across her face. She was lit up from inside the inferno of magic, a mesmerising tempest, and he wondered whether that was what she looked like when she was battling _him. _Had he been so involved in pushing against her all these years that he had never noticed the magnificence of her fury?

He had never seen her like this before, full of passion and life. His heart felt like it was on fire and he couldn't breathe properly as he watched her smile triumphantly and brandish her wand like a sword, dancing forward to land the killing thrust, succeeding in smiting her invisible enemy.

She flourished her wand, conjuring a ball of fire that hovered in the centre of the classroom. She waved her wand again, but, instead of the impressive trails of colourful sparks and sophisticated magic she had been spurting, a plume of black smoke issued from its glowing tip. Lily stopped with a sigh, her shoulders slumping, and with another wave of her wand the magical maelstrom immediately dissipated.

James was jolted from his trance by the suddenness of her stopping mid-battle and instantly felt embarrassed that he'd been watching her with such fascination.

Beating back his body's impulse to blush, he consciously ignored the thoughts he'd just been having about her. He opened the door, leaned against the doorframe awkwardly and coughed. "You're doing it wrong."

She jumped about a foot in the air, and whirled around, shouting "_Expelliarmus!"_

His wand whipped out of his pocket and flew into her outstretched hand.

"It's just me." He spread his hands out in a placating gesture. "I was only offering some friendly advice. No need to hex me."

Her mouth opened and closed for a few seconds and two rosy spots appeared on her cheeks, but she didn't drop the wands. Eventually she spat out, "Did I ask for your advice?"

"No. But you need it. You're doing it wrong."

Instead of the customary scowl Evans tended to sport whenever he was nearby, she smiled. "I know- hence the practising."

His eyebrows lifted and his vocal box malfunctioned in the presence of her unfamiliar smile. "Well- you- so that's – Practising? That's what you're doing here?"

"Yeah, well, as much as it pains me to say it, I'm not good enough. There's lots of important stuff I don't know and even more that I can't put into practice." She bit her lip, staring past his shoulder into the dark corridor. "I've got to get better, there's no other option. I'm running out of time." She jerked her eyes back to meet his concerned gaze, shrugged, and awkwardly added, "You know, for exams."

"Exams, right." He nodded enthusiastically, attempting to cover the strained moment. They both knew exactly why she'd been practising and it sure as hell wasn't because of upcoming exams. "They are...important, I guess."

"What are you doing here anyway?" She set her hands on her hips, blew hair out of her face, and looked at him expectantly. He half expected her to start tapping her foot. "Shouldn't you be off with your little friends having food fights or strategically placing dungbombs beneath trap-doors?"

"Well, since we aren't twelve years old anymore, no." He ignored her snort of disbelief and continued, "In fact, I should be asking what you're doing here. Its past curfew, you know. I should report you."

"What? Why? What time is it?" She grabbed hold of his wrist and twisted it so she could see the clock face on his watch. "Two o'clock!" she wailed.

"Yep." He smiled at her devastated expression. "It's been past curfew for a good four hours now. I figure that means you owe me four times the amount of bribery it usually takes to get me not to report a student."

"You take bribes?" she gasped, scandalized. "Potter, you can't go around doing that, we've got a responsibility as-" She cut herself off and narrowed her eyes.

He grinned, and shrugged modestly.

"Don't even think about trying to blackmail me." She crossed her arms, and shook her head, her long red mane whipping around her back. "I'm not going to be forced into doing anything, not by you. If you think I'm going to be your slave, or be nice to you for a week, or do all your homework, or even, God forbid, kiss you, then you can go to hell. I'd rather get detention every night for the rest of my life."

"Hey, I admire your imagination, and those are all legitimate and interesting propositions, Evans, but I was thinking of something a little more innocuous." He pushed himself off the doorframe and rubbed his hands together. "Let me help you with that charm."

She mouthed silently for a few moments then frowned at him suspiciously. "Why?"

"Because," he leaned forward, smiled, and gently took his wand out of her hand, "I want to help. Besides, you'd never get it right by yourself."

She huffed in silent indignation (silent because she knew that he was right) and followed him back to the centre of the room.

"The Flame-Freezer Charm, right?"

"Yes, I know it's not on the syllabus but-"

" _Incendio!" _A ball of flames leapt up between the rows of desks.

"- I thought it might come in useful when I'm out- well, when I have to- if it's a surprise question in the exam." Lily fell quiet and bit her thumbnail nervously.

"It's mostly a simple charm," James said, brandishing his wand, "but it's the wiggly bit you're doing wrong."

"Wiggly bit? How is that a technical-"

"_Congelo Flamma!"_

"I'm supposed to be good at Charms," she grumbled, staring bitterly at the frozen sculpture that was once a roaring fire. "And you're good at Transfiguration. That's how it goes."

"Yeah, well, sometimes people surprise you. Sometimes you're not infallible and sometimes I'm not a complete idiot." He quirked an eyebrow at her and smiled.

She conjured another ball of flame, rolling her eyes at him.

"So this time try not to flourish your wand as much. It's all well and good doing those fancy squiggles but it makes what you're trying to do harder."

"Since when are you an expert?" She bit her lip as she concentrated on casting the charm and failed miserably. He was right, she realised with an annoyed frown, she _was_ flourishing too much.

He moved behind her, gently taking hold of her arm. "Since I can do this charm and you can't." He wasn't sure if it was because she was embarrassed that he could do something she couldn't or if it was because of how close they were standing, but he enjoyed the fact that her cheeks were flaming and she was avoiding his gaze. "You need to point your wand like this." He wrapped his hand around hers and thrust her wand arm forward.

"Do you know why you're being nice to me?" Evans asked in a strangely rough voice as she allowed him to move her arm through the casting movement. "Because me? Non comprende."

He chuckled and placed his free hand on her shoulder, steadying her. "I thought _you'd _know. I definitely don't understand it. I assumed you'd discovered some new charm that makes people act the opposite to how they feel."

"And how do you feel?" She swung her head around to look him in the eye and paused, her breath catching. Their faces were just inches apart and they were both suddenly aware of their bodies pressing closely against each other, his arms wrapped around her. His hand was tingling where it touched her soft skin and, despite the part of him that said this was a mistake, he wondered if it would tingle like that if he kissed her.

Of their own accord, his eyes dropped to her lips and he asked himself what he was doing. This was supposed to be Evans, his nemesis, not Lily, the girl he wanted to kiss. And he did want to kiss her. His head dipped slightly and her eyes widened, but she didn't pull away, to both their surprise. This was wrong, he knew. If he lowered his head just a little further and did what, for some crazy reason, both of them wanted him to do, nothing would ever be the same again. There would be no more passionate arguments, no more epic grudges; just awkward silences and avoiding each other.

But then her bright eyes darkened and the expression in them told him that things already had changed. She was looking at him like she'd never seen him before, or maybe had never allowed herself to. Her lips parted and heat flooded him, his breathing became shallow, and every thought he might have had was buried beneath the weight of his need to feel his lips on hers.

The air pulsed around them, filled with something like a promise, something that neither of them had felt before. At that moment they were just boy and girl.

James lowered his head and Lily stretched up on her tip-toes to meet him. His lips were a hair's breadth away from hers, almost touching when-

BANG!

They leapt away from each other, wild eyed and blushing. The ball of fire that had been floating in mid-air in front of them, awaiting the Flame-Freezing Charm, had grown and grown in size until it had imploded.

The unforeseen moment had been shattered along with any trace of the status quo that they had enjoyed for years. James had been correct; their easy antagonism had dissipated in one almost-kiss, leaving a wake of unwelcome questions, unfamiliar feelings, and uncomfortable silences.

They stared in horror at each other from across the classroom for close to a minute before the spell holding them frozen snapped and Lily seemed to go into overdrive. She moved at top speed, haphazardly grabbing papers and books and shoving them into her large shoulder bag. "I- I should really get back- It's late- past curfew," she shoved a table lamp in her bag, stared at it for a moment, then pulled it out again, "-but you knew that – and I've got to do revision for the- the- that test tomorrow- and I'm tired- well, not so tired as I can't get back on my own, but so tired that I need to go to bed right now- so I'll just-"

"I'll come with you." His thoughts were scrambled and confused, but this one thing was clear. "It's not safe."

She hauled her bag onto her shoulder and began straightening the chairs in front of her, still not meeting his eyes, and blushing furiously. "Well, I don't think that is necess-"

He interrupted her. "For either of us."

"I- " She glanced up and seemed to realised that he wasn't going to budge. "Alright." Her shoulders drooped.

James struggled to keep up with her as she marched along the dark corridor as though being chased by a rogue bludger. He couldn't quite process what had happened. Since when did she stammer around him? For that matter, since when did she want to kiss him? He guessed the answer to that was since about ten minutes ago when he had wanted to kiss her too.

He glanced at her sideways as she strode through the dark, resolutely staring ahead and gritting her teeth. Her bright hair cast off a soft glow in the gloom, and he felt his insides twist. What was going on here? Didn't they sort of hate each other?

When they reached Gryffindor Tower, the air taut with a thousand questions and denials that neither of them wanted to acknowledge, she immediately bolted towards her dormitory.

It was only then, the moment that Lily left his side, that James realised that the entire time they'd been walking through the deserted corridors, he'd not thought once about the darkness they were striding through, about the secrets and lies that were hidden in its shadows. He hadn't heard its whispers and he hadn't been afraid. His lips quirked into a bemused smile. Around her, he had felt safe.

"Evans!"

She paused halfway up the stairs, and seemed to silently argue with herself. After a few moments, she slowly turned to face him, her expression tense. "Yes?"

"Thank you."

"What?"

"For being you." He shrugged, ran a hand through his hair, and then quickly stuck it back in his pocket. "I know this sounds strange but - I'd rather argue with you than be nice to anyone else."

Her eyes widened and she gulped. She stared at him in uncertainty before whirling around and running up the stairs to the safety of her dormitory.

James was vaguely aware of something strange happening inside him as he watched her scurry up to her room as if afraid he was going to follow her. It was subtle, so small he barely noticed it, but a tectonic plate somewhere in the dungeons of his heart shifted, and those doors, the doors to the dark recesses of his mind swung gently closed with a 'click'.

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**A/N: **Wow that chapter was long! I'm sorry I took longer to upload this chapter than the first ones, but this was a work-in-progress. I decided to go back and add a chapter so I've literally just finished writing this. The next chapters will probably take a couple of days each for me to upload as although the meat of the text is done I need to go back and update lots of it.

I hope you liked this chapter, because it dramatically advances their relationship. I wanted to get inside of James' head. In the next chapters we'll see more of Lily's POV. The next two chapters are a two-parter where the plot really kicks off.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Please please let me know what you thought of it. I really could do with some feedback.

Next chapter clues:

- The girls' bathroom

- Peter Pan

- Something to fight for


	5. Me and You Part 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, JK Rowling does. Big surprise I'm sure.

**Dandelions**

**Chapter 5****: Me and You (Part 1)**

James dodged around a corner and raced into the nearest classroom, in order to avoid the ever-nearing footsteps that promised inevitable doom. He skidded to a stop and scratched his head. This was not a classroom. The sinks and cubicles and tiles suggested a bathroom and yet the distinct air of hygiene suggested that it was not of the male variety. He sauntered over towards one of the cubicles, congratulating himself on a perfect hide-out. Sirius would never guess, let alone dare to even put one foot into the girls' bathroom.

He began to unzip his fly, whistling to himself.

"Please don't do that in my presence."

He zipped his fly back up so fast that for a split-second he was convinced that he'd caught something then spun around to stare at the girl who he'd nearly given an eyeful.

"Hey." He gulped as memories flooded him and his back straightened involuntarily. "Evans."

"Are you going to leave now?" said the Head Girl from where she sat on the windowsill, staring out over the grounds. She wouldn't look at him; she hadn't looked him in the eyes for over a week now. They had both spontaneously gone insane, and now it was extremely uncomfortable. Lily's method of dealing with this was, firstly, to pretend it had never happened, that he had never found her in that classroom, that they had never been more than Evans and Potter; and secondly, to avoid him at all costs. She didn't even argue with him anymore.

"Why would I?"

"Because it's the girls' bathroom. You shouldn't be here."

"I can't leave. I'm in hiding."

"I guessed as much." Lily frowned and refocused her attention on the beautiful night that was slowly descending over Hogwarts. She'd been happy brooding, trying to talk herself into blacking out certain parts of her memory.

"What's so interesting? Why couldn't you just look at the grounds from the Common Room?" James begged his mouth to shut up, but it seemed to have other plans. "You've not gone mental, have you? What's up with you sitting alone in a bathroom? Wait- you haven't spotted something, have you?" He stepped forward and stared over her shoulder out into the dusky light frowning, then sent her a sudden, startled glance. "You're not- you're not- _crying_?"

"Why can't can't you just leave me alone for once in your stupid life?" she said quietly.

James sighed. They couldn't seem to even have a good old fashioned argument lately. He knew that something had changed between them, that it didn't seem right to still be arch-enemies now that he was having fantasies about kissing her, but he didn't have a clue what he could do to make it right again. He didn't even know if he wanted things back to normal.

Despite the tension and awkwardness buzzing between them, he couldn't walk away from her brooding. He pushed her further up onto the windowsill, ignoring her indignation and folded himself into the small space left, their knees pressing together distractingly. "Because you don't really want to be alone," he said, simply. "Tell me about it."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to. I want you to go away," she said. Her eyes finally met his and he saw the desperation in them. "I want you to leave me alone and never talk to me again. I want you to stop being nice and stop trying to help me. I don't need your help. I don't understand why you're doing this. We hate each other."

He leaned his forehead against the murky glass, enjoying the cool relief, and grinned at her. "Now, Evans, we both know that's not true."

Her eyes grew large and she gulped. "Do we?"

"Don't play dumb, Evans. I know why you get into fights with me. It's for them." He nodded to the children playing outside in the dwindling twilight. "You can deny it all you want, but we're explosive together," he shrugged, "and I guess everyone likes to see a good fight. They need something to cheer them up once in a while, especially in times like these. Why else do you think Dumbledore let us off with just a detention? He knows it. We know it."

She just stared at him. It wasn't for some higher, noble purpose that she fought with him. She hated the sight of him. She felt so much whenever he was near; outrage, anger, annoyance, frustration. He lit a fire under her for no apparent reason and she exploded into a whirlwind of hexes and curses aimed at his head. She fought with him because sometimes even simply looking at him made her feel like a ticking time bomb. It was strange and mortifying to think that he had been the one with the good intentions and she had been the selfish one, thinking about exorcising her demons, getting rid of her fury. She had known logically that he must have some sort of brain power in order to become Head Boy but she had never honestly believed that there was more than cotton wool inside that head of his. Despite all this, the only thought that danced clearly across her mind in neon lights was the knowledge that he didn't hate her- never had.

She forced her face into a scowl and shrugged at him. "I suppose we do."

"Evans, are you feeling alright?" She swatted his attempts to feel her temperature. "It's a miracle!" he crowed joyously to the empty room. "The girl has actually agreed with me!"

"Hallelujah," Lily said morosely, her gaze once more sliding back towards the darkening grounds.

"Hey," he said sharply, noting her tone, and forcing her to look at him. "What's wrong? Seriously."

"Nothing. Everything." She shoved a hand aggressively through her hair. "Don't you ever wonder what we're all doing here? Why we even bother to pretend that everything's alright? Day after day, black letter after black letter, and we still go on. I just…can't." She felt him staring at her and determinedly avoided his eyes.

"Can't what?" he asked softly.

"I can't take it anymore, okay?" she burst out. She had been keeping this inside, repeating the same words over and over to herself. She could no longer shove all her worries and thoughts and feelings into the neat little package of fear that hid at the back of her mind. She let loose in one rushing avalanche of words. "I can't take knowing that You-Know-Who's already won. He's already stopped me from living, and it's only a matter of time before he finishes the job!"

"Look," he said, shifting slightly. "He's not going to come after you. You're safe here-"

"I'm safe _here_, yes! We graduate next week, Potter. Next week, I'll be dead."

He stared at her. He had wondered whether she understood the full extent of the danger she was in. Her empty eyes told him she understood very well. "What about your parents?"

She let out a mirthless laugh. "Happy Muggles, in their safe Muggle world." She paused and with more composure said, "They _are_ good people and I love them but they don't understand. They can't grasp the fact that we're all in mortal danger. To them I'm just learning a few magic tricks and once I've graduated I'll come home and everything will be back to normal. I'll be able to get a nice, normal job and live a nice, normal life. They don't understand that magic isn't something I can just ignore or sideline and that the magical world still exists whether we acknowledge it does or not. That even if I pretend I'm not a witch the danger won't just disappear." She sniffed and wiped a hand wearily over her face. "I love them. They do accept me for what I am, they just don't understand it. And they most certainly can't protect me."

James was staring out of the window and nodding thoughtfully as he digested all that she had revealed to him. It was more than she'd ever let slip before. "So once you leave Hogwarts you're going to-"

"-leave home," she finished for him, gravely. "I can't place them in danger. If I'm not around, they won't be targeted."

James wondered if she'd told anyone else what she'd just told him; from the surprised expression in her eyes and the embarrassed flush across her cheeks, he guessed not. They were quiet, but instead of the tense silence of bubbling fury or the awkward silence of awakening embarrassing feelings, they sat in silent contemplation, both wrapped up in troubling thoughts of the war.

"I'm sorry about your parents," Lily tentatively broke into his reverie.

"Don't be." He sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes wearily. She could see the still-fresh pain in his eyes. "They were old, too old to deal with me. I drove them mad with worry most of the time. In the end, Mum fell ill, and Dad couldn't survive without her. He died just ten days after she did."

Lily felt something turn over inside of her as she watched him fight back his emotions. In those few moments the illusion that she had clung to of the hollow, unreal person who that was James Potter was shattered and replaced by someone who was no longer just a caricature of a teenage nemesis. With those few words, he gained dimension, he became a real person, and Lily felt a pang of fear. She didn't know what to do; she'd never seen James like this before, and had never imagined that she could feel so much empathy for him.

"Potter-" she haltingly began, attempting to comfort him, even though she had no idea what she was going to say.

She was saved the effort by the shrug of his shoulders and the sad quirk of his lips. "It's alright, Evans. At least they went together; I don't think it was physically possible for one of them to have remained here without the other."

"They loved each other that much?"

"Yes. I'm going to find that one day." He sounded grimly determined and yet wistful at the same time. He focused his eyes on her. "Do you ever think about the future, Evans?"

"Of course I do. It feels like it's been tapping me on the shoulder for the past few months. I've got to make decisions and sort my life out. Lately I've found myself coming up here and thinking about it. It's quite depressing." She sent him a sad smile and her gaze returned to the world outside the window.

"Depressing? Surely your future is full of good things? I know there's the war and everything but- well, there's got to be something to look forward to." To James, it was inconceivable that she wouldn't get all that she deserved. After all, she was clever, witty, beautiful and talented; he couldn't imagine how her future wouldn't be anything less than sickeningly happy.

"Come on, Potter." She smiled bitterly. "We both know what my future is. It's pretty much nonexistent. It's going to be full of fighting and dying and that's about it. I'm nearly eighteen. I've come to terms with the fact that I'll never have a family, or children, or a career, or my own home. I'll never have the chance to love someone so much I would die without them."

"How can you be so sure?"

"All that's in my future now is war. And you know what happens in war? You fight and you die. That's the end of my story."

James didn't know what to say. What could he possibly say? Tell her it'd all be okay when they both knew that it most certainly wouldn't? "Evans, I-"

She pushed her hair away from her face and finally looked at him. Her eyes were shimmering and bright and full of defiance. "I hate knowing that while I'm sat here, pitying myself, moaning about what I'm never going to have, there are people out there who actually had it all, who knowwhat it feels like to have it all, and have lost it because he's taken it from them. I think losing it all is worse than never having it." She leaned her head against the glass, shutting her eyes. "At least I'll never know what it feels like to lose it."

"Everyone loses something," he said sharply. "Why do you think we go on? Because we have to. Because if we didn't it'd mean that he's already won. We _have _to fight. Whether we defeat him or not, the simple act of standing for what's right means everything." He put a hand to her cheek and wiped away the lone tear that had escaped its prison. "We've already won, Evans."

She jerked her head up to stare at him. "You know," she blurted out before she could stop herself, "you've never so much as shook my hand in the seven years we've known each other and yet you've touched me three times this last two weeks,"

"I know."

Their eyes locked and she knew that something strange had happened. She'd never seen him so serious, so sincere. His voice was strong, while hers broke, and his gaze steady, while hers blurred with tears. She was jolted out of self-pity as she realized that her personal Peter Pan had finally grown up. She had thought he would always be young, carefree, annoying, and happy. But all little boys grow up, and in dark times, they grow up even faster. She studied his profile and wondered what was going on. Things seemed to be changing awfully quickly.

"It's no good. All we do is fight, Potter," she said softly, pulling her eyes from his face and staring out at the darkening forest. "What does winning matter if we never get to live?"

They sat in silence and together they watched the lengthening shadows dance across the lake and through the trees. They watched as the Moon haltingly took up its position in the sky, presiding over the darkness, the sovereign of the night, burning slithers of ghostly light into the heavy gloom.

She sighed as she watched the children laugh and make their way slowly towards the castle. It was a warm night. It had been a bitter winter, and it was proving to be a glorious summer. Some said it was a sign of better things to come. She wasn't as optimistic. In reality, the beautiful days ahead would be some of the most trying for everyone as the death count increased daily, destroying the lives of the people left behind. It was times like these that she longed for the past, for the peaceful days of her childhood in the Muggle world where all she had to worry about was her homework, her sister and her freckles. The beauty of the magical world had been sent into shadow and all there was left were regrets and fear.

"Evans?" she heard James's voice softly, hesitantly ask.

"Hmm?"

It took a few seconds before she realized that his hand had crept into hers, and he was gently squeezing it. She stared at their joined hands, speechless. He was holding her hand, like he had the other day, except now he really was _holding her hand_. And he was staring at her with an expression that she wasn't sure that she liked. "What-?"

"Let's not forget to live," he whispered, his voice deepening as he looked right into her eyes. "We could- we could get away from here."

"What do you mean?"

"We could elope."

She blinked. She shook her head. She blinked again. No, he was still there, looking at her like that and saying those words.

**To Be Continued…**

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**A/N:** I'm so so sorry for taking absolutely ages to upload (although in my last epic story, Stealing Sheep, it took me years at a time between chapters!). The problem I had was that while this chapter was already complete, I had written it months ago. Since I first wrote it, I added chapters 3 and 4 which were more serious than this story was to begin with so the tone of this chapter didn't really flow so I had to fix that. Also, I've been mightily distracted by _Glee _fan fiction :D. However, I promise I'll try to get Chapter 6 up quicker (especially since it's a cliffhanger!).

Please review! It really does spur me on. The more reviews I get, the quicker I'll update!


	6. Me and You Part 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I don't even own my socks and I definitely don't own this laptop I'm typing on. **

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**Dandelions**

**Chapter 6: Me And You (Part 2)**

James was a strange boy. He'd made odd jokes before, laughing insanely at things that were completely unfunny, but Lily couldn't imagine what had possessed him to take a stab at levity and pretend to propose to her.

Lily pushed herself to her feet. She tried to tame the lines of her face into the semblance of an annoyed scowl, although she had a sneaking suspicion that it resembled resignation rather than ire. "Look, I don't appreciate the stupid jokes, okay? I thought maybe- well- I thought you might have grown up a bit. Obviously I was wrong."

As she strode towards the exit, he stopped her with a single word.

"Lily."

He looked shocked with himself as he stood there saying her name like it was an everyday occurrence. She was always Evans and he was always Potter. It had been like that forever.

"I wasn't joking. We could elope."

She silently opened and closed her mouth a few times.

"Listen to me," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. He was calmer than he had any right to be. "I know it sounds insane, it _is _insane, but just think about it. It makes sense."

"Sense?" she felt her voice raise an octave. "You've never encountered the word before. I just spilled my guts out to you, and you have to turn it into a joke at my expense." She gulped and hoped that he couldn't hear the hurt in her voice. "What is wrong with you?"

"Lily, I'm serious," James said, gently.

She wanted to laugh, she wanted to scream at him for teasing her, and she would have done, if it hadn't been for the fierce, burning expression in his eyes. As bizarre and insane as it was, she suddenly knew with certainty that he meant everything he was saying. She rapidly went from frustrated and hurt, to utterly astonished.

"Why?" she choked out. Her heart was beating unnaturally fast and she felt like her eyes were about to pop out of her head.

"Think about it. Next week you're going to be out there all alone and-"

"You think you can protect me?" She raised her eyebrows. "Just because you can do the Flame-Freezing Charm and I can't does not mean that you are a better wizard than I am a witch. I can protect myself."

"We could protect each other." He shrugged. "I need protecting too, you know, I'm under no illusion about that. We'd watch each others backs."

She scoffed. "Somehow, I don't think that's a valid reason for marriage, Potter. What about your friends? Don't you all look after each other?"

"They've got their own families to worry about. I'm like you, Evans. I'm alone in the world." He smiled sadly at her and his shoulders drooped as though he had a weight hanging on his shoulders, a weight heavier than it should have been at his young age. "My parents are dead. I've got no other relatives. I've only got this school and once it's gone from my life, I don't know what I'm going to do."

He wasn't invulnerable. He was the same as her; he was alone in the world. She had been so self-involved and self-pitying that she had completely bypassed the fact that he might be just as scared as her. She could feel herself softening as she tilted her head and asked, "And how do you think that eloping might possibly make any of that go away?"

The corners of his mouth quirked up slightly. "I wouldn't be alone anymore."

She frowned and tried to pretend that she didn't melt just a little at his words. "This is not the answer, Potter. We don't even like each other."

"We don't dislike each other." He took a step forward. "Think of it like a business deal."

"Excuse me?"

"Look, you haven't got anywhere to go when we graduate. I've got a house. I've got money and no one to share it with."

Lily blinked. "You want to share it with me?"

"Why not?"

"Why not? Because I'm Evans and you're Potter. Because we're only eighteen years old and we barely know each other-"

"We've known each other for seven years."

She waved her arms in frustration. "You're _completely _insane-"

"Certifiable," he agreed.

"-And marriage is a lot more than watching each others backs. It involves actually having a functional relationship rather than one full of pure unadulterated hatred. It involves-"

"- trust and friendship and respect," he cut in. "I think if we worked at it we could have those things. It's not outside the realm of possibility, is it?"

"But what about- what about love and kissing and-" Unbidden, an image forced itself to the forefront of her mind, of an empty Transfiguration classroom, of the echo of flames dancing in dark eyes, of hands brushing and lips almost touching. She fought the blush that threatened to parade itself across her face and choked out, "-and- other things-"

"Well, we'd be like partners. We don't need to complicate it with any- any- funny business." James scratched his head and studied the tiled floor intently.

"But why marriage? Why couldn't we just- I don't know- help each other out now and again?"

"Because it's not practical," he said in a tone that suggested she was being rather dim. "This way we can look after each other, protect each other, all the time. And," he swallowed and his face fell into grave lines, making him appear older than his meagre years, "if I should die fighting, then I'd know that my worldly possessions would go to someone who deserved them."

For the third time that night- a record for Lily- she was left speechless. His words left her with a confusing ache deep inside her chest and she felt unbearably honoured.

"And, you know, two incomes. I might get a break on paying taxes." The old James Potter, the one she knew, made a brief cameo then as he grinned at her the sure, beautiful smile that had driven her to righteous fury on so many occasions.

"But," she said, gently, "what about your parents? What about finding a love like theirs? You can't just give that up."

A strange, unreadable expression flashed across his face, and he looked away from her. Lily wondered whether he had finally realised the ridiculousness of what he was proposing; she ignored the vague flutter of disappointment that danced for attention in the bottom of her stomach.

"Look," he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "if Voldemort had his way, we'd both be dead within the month." His dark eyes met hers. "What have we got to lose? Why can't we take a chance to really live, even if it's just for a little while?"

She stared at him, something she'd done an awful lot of that night. "We can't hide away from the war forever."

"No. But we could find something to fight for."

His eyes burned into hers. She didn't think she'd ever seen him this serious. He'd been the bane of her existence; the loud, obnoxious, arrogant scoundrel who had driven her to the edge many times. Now he was calm, collected, and sensible. Wasn't he Potter, the one person who she couldn't bear to spend any prolonged amount of time with? Maybe he wasn't who she'd believed he was, a voice whispered to her. Maybe she'd never really known him at all.

She bit her lip and thought about what life with James Potter would entail. By herself, she knew that she'd lead a dull life, full of beige, and lacking in any sort of excitement, until the one day when her life would explode into colour and she would be murdered by Death Eaters for being a 'Mudblood'. It was a sad probability, but one she was resigned to. However, if she agreed to his proposal there would be laughter, light, and, yes, arguments, but passionate ones, before the darkness came. There was a chance that it would work the way he had said it would, that they would protect each other, save each other. And she wouldn't be alone.

Lily raised her head, met his eyes and took a deep breath. "Okay," she said.

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**A/N: I'm so sorry its taken me absolutely ages to update this chapter. Its because I've now decided to scrap everything I'd pre-written and start again, which means that I wrote this chapter completely from scratch. And, unfortunately, I can't give any spoilers because I'm not 100% sure of what's going to happen myself! **

**I want to say thank you for the wonderful reviews. They really have spurred me on and made me write when I had zero inspiration. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please review if you did!**


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